Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1887-10-12

10 get up anu 80 ahehu again.
Perhaps you never tried crossing
prairie at night without trail to fol-
low. It's a curious thing. one can't
account for; one that makes you feel as
if your body and all your senses were
Of no more account than a spent car.
fridge. 1t happened to me that night,
space and time seemed to get all mixed
up together all at once racing along; it
seemed to me that 1 had been keeping
up that sort of thing for hours. 1 felt
so adrift somehow-so horribly lost
as if 1 had slipped out of myself and
was out in space without landmark
to measure any thing by. / expect
you'll have to try it yourself to know
what mean. l had no watch;
there was no way of knowing how
much time had gone. OF all the devils
that can enter into a man uncertainty
is the worst. Every sort of fancy
came into my head. Perhaps did MOI
know the route as we'll as 1 mad
thought Perhaps 1 had even passed
the cabins and was going away from
them with every step. ] ought to have
reached them in three hours at the ut
most. 1t seemed to me that l had been
hurting along for twice three hours.
Once tried madly to fight back into
the wind. 1t was hopeless-worse than
useless. should drop with exhaustion
in few minutes, and 1 must keep GO
ing.
And then found burned grass under
my feet. There had been q fire over
the prairie. The ground was not cold
yet. A new dread got hold of me.
Who knew where it had gone or what
had stood in its trackp ] ran along
screaming something-praying or
swearing-quite mad, think, for a
little, till fell again and the jar
brought me to my senses.
Ihad gone over the edge Of an old
buffalo run scooped dry by the rush
of summer rains. lay still for a little
while. must have gone to sleep or
perhaps l tainted away. Anyway,
when came to myself again the world
was as still as the grave.
The wind had gone down, as it will
sometimes, suddenly and entirely. The
silence was horrible. I got on my feet,
stiff and benumbed. In all that gray,
still, CHASTITY space there was nothing
to tell east from west, or north from
south. was lost on the big range.
1t was still enough but the cold was
dangerous. 1 could not stop. must
move somewhere. Unjust make my
self purpose-a purpose to keep my
self alive at least-till daylight came.
1 began walking; it did not matter in
what direction. If only my strength
held out till morning-strength to
keep off that horrible drowsiness. L
know stumbled heavily along. Twas
thinking about Molly and her baby; it
all seemed like dull dream.
And then bells began to- ring, deep
and soft and far of. l stopped in my
tracks to listen. 1t was the sound Of
bells, certain, full and sweet; and 1
turned and went blindly on, following
the sound as hound might follow a
scent.
All at once saw light. 1t wasn't
q star; there were no stars. And no.
body lived on the big range, unless
some camper was travelling about, and
campers don't travel in the teeth of a
norther. And this light swung and
wavered, went out entirely for Sec
ond or two, and then burned up again.
And near or far / could not tell, only it
was light and it moved, and followed
it, And 1 could hear the bells all the
time.
Then, all at once, another one Of
Molly's Bible verses flashed into my
head; some thing about "star in the
East that went before them till it came
and stood over the place where the
young child lay"
Well, l wasn't q wise man, or l
shouldn't have got in such fix. l
don't think I'm an irreverent kind of o
fellow, either; man couldn't live
with Molly many years and be that
Only was looking for young child.
too, and babies-little ones-always did
seem to me near enough to Heaven TO
make that story about the star reason
able enough. Any way, there it was,
meant for me or not, and followed it.
More than once 1 fell, but always
got up and went on. was talking to
myself part of the time. hearing my
own voice and thinking it was some
one else's. l lost my sense of time
again, but kept on doggedly; and
then, suddenly, the light flashed
brighter, whirled about in wild sort
of way, and went out entirely.
gave shout and ran forward.
thought I should die if lost it. And
there was standing on wide trail,
with a sort of square, dark shape
standing up in front in the dimness
before me, with light and voices COM
ing out of the chinks, and somehow,
there was the door, and my hand on
the latch, and in another secontf--oh!
it was Molly-Molly with lamp in her
hand, bending over feeding-box made
into a cradle, with great armfulot
hay and a white sheepskin for a cover,
and Madison's wife kneeling on one
side, and Clayton's wife on the other.
and beyond, with the light flashing ID
their great, wondering, shining eyes, a
pair of astonished horses. And then
there came piping cry from the feed
ing-trough, and knew 1 had found
the baby.
Burned out? Yes, sir. That was
the last thing;'but they had had warns
ing before the fire came down on them.
J Jim Clayton had taken the women and
struck across for the big road and they
took the first shelter they game to, a
stable that had been built in the days
when all the California supplies went
overland by mule train. When the
wind fell he took the lantern and tried
to find cabin that used to stand some
where near, and I had been following
, him for half an hour.